As Soon as the Glass is Empty
by Iamprettyodd
Summary: Louis is sick of existing. Then he meets a stranger with adventure in his eyes. They have a lot more in common than they thought. Just a quick on shot


div id="ql-line-1" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="4cc5f321a37f4959e234211fa60228af"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"His reflection stared back at him from across the wooden bar top. It was warped, following along the cracked lines of the glass, like a river cutting through the earth's surface. Except it wasn't as beautiful as a river, but more unnatural and forced as if it had somewhere better to be in that exact moment. As if it was far greater than to simply just exist./span/div  
div id="ql-line-3" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="d720ec05acc8a5adf7242a2b11dab887"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"As soon as his glass was empty, he would leave and rejoin the living, as they too simply just existed. They all breathed the same air, saw the same stars, walked the same ground, yet they wasted those simple moments of fresh, crisp wind gently brushing passed their faces, and they wasted the stories that would dance across the night sky, and they wasted the sound of crunching leaves beneath their leather-covered feet. All of these senses, these hidden wonders of the world, were all Louis needed. They were the signs of life, where new beginnings would be left in it's wake, appearing just as the golden glow of the familiar sun surpassed the ocean and the hills, and cleared it's path above the tree lines, it's rays raining down through the leaves and across the open skies. Where opportunity awaited all who dared to stop existing and to start inhaling the fresh air, and exhaling the very essence of human nature./span/div  
div id="ql-line-5" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="c12df5f6da16abe1ccf7d482a24d089c"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"As soon as his glass was empty, Louis would walk out the door, his head glued to the concrete pavement, counting the cracks along the grey canvas. And Louis would think about the men who placed the manufactured earth there and how each crack resembled the weakness of mankind, completing one slab at a time. But he supposed that was how life worked, in stages that needed to be completed in a step by step process, and eventually, none of it would matter. All of the hard work wouldn't pay off and we would lose everything we've ever gained; friendships, purpose, freedom, love./span/div  
div id="ql-line-7" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="4d6bbc37ea98bab5b72778e64f941e83"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"As soon as his glass was empty, Louis would return back to his flat, sit on his sofa across from the television, and watch the news until his eyes were red and burned with exhaustion. He would feel the presence of solitude as it joined him on both sides, creating depressions on the untouched cushions. He would watch the turmoil of humanity, and he would watch destruction and chaos fight each other, contained by a fourteen inch glass box, in the silence of his own home. Then, when he could no longer keep his heavy eyelids open, he would make his way to his room and undress, leaving nothing but his boxers. He would slip under the covers and find peace as he fell asleep, alone, as he would every night. Perhaps he would dream. He would dream of colors and of familiar faces. He would dream of warm hues of love and peace. He would dream of flying and of having no fears. But when Louis would awake, he would begin the same conventional life once again./span/div  
div id="ql-line-9" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="082db25a2d82341d71e8f0b371795f3d"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"Louis removed his gaze from the broken reflection that sat across from him and looked down to stare at the top of the glass rim, the dark yellow liquid forming white bubbles that clung to the clear sides. Directly to his left, a young man took his seat, ordering with the gentle intonation of his voice. The sensation was new to Louis, he hadn't felt it in a while. He was no longer alone, and his body began to feel warm as the liquor rushed down his throat./span/div  
div id="ql-line-11" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="28f21177176bf9f28a3609502066776a"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"He glanced to his left, curious on who the stranger was. His eyes were met by a kind smile, dimples decorating the sides of rosey lips and sending waves of honey into Louis's stomach. The stranger had green eyes, but not any kind of green he had ever seen before, and he thought that there should be new color named only after them. Louis swore that if he stared long enough, hard enough, he could see birds soaring above treetops, disappearing as they made their home among the branches. His eyes told a story. A story that seemed familiar to Louis's own novel. The stranger introduced himself as Harry. Louis thought if fit him well, especially the way he said it, and Louis was only reminded of the image of sweet warm maple syrup on a pleasant sunday afternoon./span/div  
div id="ql-line-13" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="e2833f0a53a61b242dc71641be9fff4b"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"They talked. They talked about their occupations and about how they made enough just to get by. They talked about their past and about how they both had never seen love. They talked about their childhood and they talked about their homes. They talked about their future and how they wanted to stop reliving the same day over and over and over. They talked about what their wants and their desires. They talked about fear for a long time, about the feeling of being cemented to this life. They talked and they talked until the sun peaked above the horizon, signaling humanity to exist once again./span/div  
div id="ql-line-15" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="bcfe35d8b5a155f8216d3ce5f6c8d9aa"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"Louis smiled and looked down at his glass, one sip remaining. He thought about Harry and how he felt he had known him for a lifetime, before he had even come into this world, before wars had raged across Europe and before humanity knew what hatred was. He had been afraid to take that last sip, not wanting to rejoin the world. But something was different, something that made Louis unafraid to finish his drink and he thought it might've been Harry, the stranger with adventure in his eyes. So he took that last sip, the glass now empty and stripped of purpose./span/div  
div id="ql-line-17" class="ql-line" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 12px !important 0px;" data-p-id="1bc375f682cf0af2d3b9ed530c427b86"span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"He glanced back to his left, only to see an empty chair with no stranger with fractured light in his voice. Louis looked around frantically, searching for a head of chocolate curls, for a broad shouldered gentleman with a secret in his steps. He was nowhere to be seen, and all that was left was his empty glass, standing tall next to Louis's own. Perhaps, Louis thought, they'd meet in another lifetime, just as they had before./span/div 


End file.
